


Three Drinks Later

by chatoyance



Category: Archer (Cartoon)
Genre: Alcohol, Friendship, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, i dunno what this can even actually be tagged as??, it's weird - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-21 23:55:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1568522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chatoyance/pseuds/chatoyance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Careful, because in about three drinks you're gonna get all boo-hooey and ask me to pump a baby in you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Drinks Later

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I should start with an apology. I just want more of their friendship, man. But I'm also not opposed to a little bit of kissing because nobody's that gay. That said, this is weird and has both of those things because that's why fic even exists, right??

“Come on, please?”

The next few seconds were crammed with the words “please” and “nope”, repeated several times in varying states of desperation from both parties. Ray shook his head, his brow furrowed, grabbing Lana’s wrists and pulling her oversized hands away from his shoulders. “Lana, honey, I can’t, for a whole bunch of reasons...”

“Nobody has to know about it, it can just be Our. Little. Secret.” Lana tapped the end of his nose with her finger at the end of each word, and jesus, she was kind of an insufferably affectionate drunk. She had him backed up against the wall in the hallway outside Archer’s bedroom, one arm leaning against the wall to the side of his shoulder, effectively blocking his escape route down the hall, “Come on Ray, I _need_ this.”

“Y’know, you _say_ that, but—“

He stopped mid-sentence when she leaned in and kissed his jaw lightly, slowly moving toward his neck, and he froze like a deer caught in the high beams of a pickup, biting his lip so hard it almost bled. She whispered into his ear breathlessly, begging him to do it, and for a moment he closed his eyes and almost wanted to give in. Lana had always been the exception; the only woman he could ever, _ever_ be with (and, he rationalized, she was a little mannish anyway. Not that he’d ever say it to her face.) And there _was_ that one time he had been completely ready and willing to go at it on Cyril’s desk (he had been a little bit disappointed that day.) She was gorgeous, she was pretty much his only friend in that piece of shit agency, and here she was, asking him to do her the favour of screwing her in her ex-boyfriend’s bedroom at the baby shower for his bastard child so that she could have a child of her own. Wow, it sounded really awful when he put it like that.

After that moment’s thought, he came back down to earth, grabbing hold of her shoulders and gently pushing her away from him, “Honey, you’re absolutely shitfaced right now, we’re not doin' this.”

“Aw!”

The voice wasn’t Lana’s. Ray looked past Lana’s shoulder and barked, “Pam, get the _hell_ outta here!”

Pam ducked behind the corner she had been peering around, and when there was no response, Ray just assumed that Pam had left. He turned back to Lana, placing his hands on either side of her face and looking at her intently, “Listen, darlin’ I know how badly you want to be a mother, but this is hardly the time _or_ the place.”

There was a moment where she just looked at him, and then she leaned her forehead into his shoulder, growling in defeat, “Ugh, I’m just so fricking jealous.”

“Uh, of whom?”

“That whore whatsername. Do you know how many times I asked Archer if he’d ever have kids? He always said, ‘Nope. No. No.’ And then he drills one into a hooker without a second thought, and now she’s in there with a little baby and a big baby shower, and here _I_ am begging my gay best friend to screw me in my ex-boyfriend’s bedroom at the baby shower for his bastard child – wow that sounds so bad when I say it out loud.”

“Yeah, I thought it sounded pretty bad, too...” Ray chuckled, rubbing her back slowly as she nestled herself into his arms, “Wait—I’m your best friend?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess so. I mean, you’re the only person I know who doesn’t make me want to strangle them,” she paused for a moment, “... Sooo, am I not yours?”

He was caught off-guard for a moment. He hadn’t ever really thought about their friendship that way before; she was always a work friend to him, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized he was wrong. There were times they watched crappy girly rom-coms together at his place because neither of them knew anyone else who would tolerate them, and he’d pass out on the couch beside her before the ending and when it was over, she'd wake him up and try to explain the last twenty minutes of the movie to him. She loved his cats and he loved having company over at his place who wouldn’t try to steal his katanas, and it became a bit of a Friday routine for them; grab some beers, bitch about everything Archer had done that week, and watch a movie. Eventually, they would volunteer to help on one another’s missions, they would share hotel rooms and sometimes even clothes a little bit, and she was the only person whose birthday he could actually remember without writing it on his calendar. Yes, he thought, she was an _actual_ friend, and probably his best friend as well.

“I guess you are, actually,” he said, smiling, and she laughed drunkenly and kissed his cheek.

“Now _do it._ ”

Pam had poked her head around the corner again, grinning like an idiot.

_“Pam, god damn it!”_

There was a smash and Pam ducked behind the corner as the vase came hurtling at her head.


End file.
